My Little Golden Book of Phobias

Saturday night I went dancing and a bunch of goth people came in dressed in lingerie and fangs. Very small lingerie. Fancy hairdos and lots of makeup. But mostly cleavage. I was distinctly out of place in my sensible dancing shoes. The women were very thin. Very. Thin. At times I think I'm just visiting from another planet and observing the behaviors of the earthlings. Here is a group of people who dress up as undead in fishnets and pointy teeth Two days before that I stood at the bedside of a friend as she stopped breathing. We laid out her body. We bathed her. We sang to her and wished her well. I went dancing because I still could. As a living person. Mostly I'm thinking about what makes us happy. For some it's social activism. For others it's Victoria's Secret.

As I left the hospital after Margo died, I wanted to get on a motorcycle and ride, anywhere. The next day, Morgan showed up on her bike. I dusted off my leathers and we went out for about four hours. It was beautiful. Morgan wants to go to Mount Rainier next. Oh hell yes.